In a heartbeat
by spectraangel
Summary: she wanted nothing to do with emotions-he waited to show someone who he really was... the question is, can love happen at second sight?


Hi everyone!  I sort of felt horrible for not updating, and then going back and changing the entire second half of _A lifetime to know you_.  Anyways, I wrote this a few days ago, because I was feeling a little blue.  And then after I finished it, I realized that the characters were sorta like some people in Season 3.  So I decided to make it into a fanfic. Though, I think you'll notice a lot of changes, concerning the characters and their families.  And…well… eh… they're sorta OOC too.

Well, that's all I have to say! See you at the bottom.  BTW, it is a one-shot.

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She opened the book nimbly, its tattered pages daring to tear in front of her eyes; but she knew they wouldn't.  How many days had she spent under this tree, on this same page, staring at the title, at the script, at the words? Who knew… it was certainly a very large amount, and so she lost interest in keeping track.  Every waking thought was about this story, about this very tale, of happiness, of life, of realization.  It wasn't something she experienced everyday now.  Her fingers ran over the title, as she read aloud, "In a Heartbeat." 

"I was 25 when I was finally born.  What? Did you say strange?  Well it is, I mean, what AM I saying? The typical fairytale has been altered in so many ways; I really don't know where to begin.  Well, lets see… I was born in a small town but into a complete family.  I had my mother, my father, and my annoying yet sweet older brother.  I could have turned out to be many names, everyone, including my great great-uncle wanted to call me something different; but finally, I got stuck with the name, Rika.  I know it's very simple and elegant.  Unfortunately, people get fooled easily because of it.  As it turned out, I, myself, had no grace to speak of.  And as for beauty, well, let's just say that the old, almost blind, codger next door, was convinced that I was a bear.  Of course, I really don't know if he's still alive now.  I moved out years ago.  

Of all the things that I could turn out to be: a rich snobby 'princess', a hopeless romantic, a softspoken girl, I became a practical woman with no interest whatsoever in anything that has to do with emotions.  If you can't trust that, all I can really suggest is for you to hear my conversations with my employees.  

Well, my ex-employees.  I'm sure that they're all happy somewhere, working with nicer bosses and being thankful every morning that I decided to quit my job.  Ah, the good old days.  I'm sure you're wondering where this is all going.  So I guess I should start…

Ah yes, 25.  The sappy romance stories that my mother read to me were all just some poor girl's way of passing time, or atleast in my opinion.  And I continued to believe that… until I had my own tale to tell.  For one thing, it happened in the strangest way, totally differing for the norm the world keeps for its lovers, and for another, and it was a complete blow in the face for me.  I was totally unprepared; then again, I think he was as well.  

We had met as seniors in some intern seminars and such, just curtly nodding to each other when we were introduced, and then going along with our lives, unfazed.  Then, at the end, when all the others gave hugs to each other and took phone numbers and such, to keep in touch, we simply nodded at each other again, and that was it.  I had gone on to rise to the top of the corporate ladder, and him, well; I found out that he was the heir to the largest company in the world.  So, he went on to take his throne, so to speak.  Still, we were the talk for quite some time.  

A magazine had written an article on us, as the next generation of titans that went to war.  True, we didn't exactly accept the other into our worlds, but we didn't really bother about each other.  So you must be wondering how we actually came together- to say the least, it was in an elevator.  And to expand, it was at the international business conference.  

Nothing more… really… fine, there was more.  

I had to attend a meeting that would basically divide half the corporations in what the company I worked for wanted to define as 'his' territory, and the rest 'ours'.  So we went to sign the contracts and such; seeing the dissapointed expressions of companies wasn't exactly fun, but to keep my job, I kept the smirk.  

It was the first time we had met after such a long time, and at the beginning of the meeting, as the hotel's manager introduced us all, his eyes were on me, with an unreadable expression.  That was part one.  Over the weeklong meeting, everytime I closed my eyes, suddenly, I'd remember his.  

I finally decided that it was time I took a vacation, and that it was the magazines that concocted various theories about us that triggered the memories. It was easier to follow than to lead afterall.  

So the day the papers were finally agreed upon, and the endless document signed, I extended my hotel room for another two weeks.  It turned out that he did as well.  Luckily, no reporters found out.  

We managed to collide with each other a few times, one of which I clearly remember, because I was falling backwards and managed to be caught by him, and by his eyes as well.  I was running down the stairs trying to get to the beach, seeing to the fact that the elevator refused to come to my floor, and as I turned the corner to go down another flight, I bumped into him.  It was a good thing he was strong, or we would have both ended up tumbling down about 20 stairs, not my idea of fun.  Anyways, he caught me, and I ended up slamming into his chest.  Did I mention that he was coming from the beach?  

I must admit, I had looked at him in a new light at that moment.  His hair falling messily on his face, giving a very boy-ish look to him, and those sunglasses stuck somewhere up there in that mass of silk.  He had amazing eyes, though I can't place a name for the color.  Trust me, I've tried for a while now.  They're an amber-hazel-silver-blue mix, it's almost as if he has an entire color spectrum for his eyes.  Now I sound lovesick.  

When we'd finally seperated, meaning that I'd taken out my fingers from the elbows into which I dug my nails, and he let go of my waist, I muttered a small apology.  He stared at me and I was a little afraid, I remembered what his eyes had done throughout the conference, I didn't need it again.  I even said thank you, and continued my descent, a bit slower in speed now, and also in a bit of a trance.  

That was the moment that I, at first, labeled as my final time of peace.  The next day, a reporter from the Times found me, and at another spot, caught him as well, and managed to cover the front page saying, 'Couple of the Century'.  It supposedly freed something large, because in the next day, about a 100 more reporters came, and so did the calls.  The first one was from my mother, asking me why I didn't tell her.  I evaded that question by saying that I was getting another call.  

Then it was a co-worker who manages to stay sane even with my daily yelling and screaming about nothing getting done.  His words: 'Wow so is Miss Rika becoming a Missus very soon?' That earned him a very hearty 10-minute lecture full of obscenities enough to make a quilt for every human being.  And they continued.  I stayed in my room, just to avoid everyone for a couple days.  Then I realized that I was spending good time and money sitting in a room just because I was afraid of some wasps, which liked the more professional term of reporter.  

So on the last day of my vacation, I snuck out, and went to the underwater observatory.  It was fairly interesting the first time I went around, and so I decided to visit it for a last time.  As I was waiting for the elevator to come, it seemed that the majority of vacationers left because of the calamity the reporters were causing, so I was the only one there.  

At that point, my abysmal cellphone rang shrilly, and I answered just a rudely.  The bad thing was, it turned out to be the guy who was technically my boss.  He commented on the articles, and the mannerless behavior that I was presenting.  I really couldn't have cared less, but since I needed my job, I managed to place a few words together and stammer less.  

By this time, the elevator opened, and I walked in, oblivious to my surroundings, and pressed the last button on the side.  I stood facing the door, apologizing and explaining what had happened over the past two weeks.  It must have been a very interesting sight, the grumpy woman who yelled at anyone who did something without perfection, apologizing in a very meek voice and stuttering every few seconds as well.  

Suddenly, the elevator jerked to a stop, and then, I felt the first signs of fear.  I tried to concentrate on my phone, but it went dead in a timely manner, and I screamed hello about four times before a voice chuckled and said, "Get off it Ruki."  I whipped around.  NO one ever dared to call me 'Ruki' and I absolutely detested that.  As things turned out, it was him.  Mr. I-don't-have-a-job-to-keep-my-mouth-shut was smiling amused.  

"What?"  I spat back.  He smiled and said, "you and I both know that we're stuck about 300 feet underwater, with your dead phone, in an elevator, and each other."  I gasped.  Being stuck three hundred feet underwater wasn't one of my fantasies.  

I started pacing, as I always did when I was nervous.  He started laughing again, and I finally yelled frustrated, "What is your problem?"  He smirked and said, "you know, that attitude will do nothing but make you more nervous.  Just relax a little.  We'll get out in a while."  

I wanted to scream and yell at him, but as it turned out, he was right, so I just sighed in defeat and sat down on the floor.  

We didn't even talk, so I ended up fiddling with my thumbs.  Then I felt him move across the floor and I realized that if he even did anything to me, no one would know.  I edged even more towards the corner of the elevator, afraid and worried.  He walked up to me and then lit a match and lighted a candle.  He turned the candle sideways and I yelled, "What are you trying to do, burn us?"  

He looked up, his eyes reflecting the candle flame and then simply placed a finger to his lips and turned the candle upright.  It turned out that he let a little wax melt so that he could use it to hold the candle.  He sat on the other side of the candle and made no move towards me and I just stared at the small flame.  

He finally spoke to me, saying, "So what made you want to come here today?"  I looked up and said, "Just wanted to enjoy my vacation and not worry about reporters."  He smiled softly and replied, "They are a big pain aren't they?"  And then I realized that this guy had grown up with the fame and the people; he knew how to deal with them.  "Nothing we can't try and fix in this world," I said.  

He looked down at his watch and then up at me saying, "we've been here for almost an hour now."  I took out my cell phone and looked at it.  I heard some shuffling, and looked up to see him next to me.  He put his hand out and I put my cellphone in it our hands barely brushing against each other's.  

He tried many things with it and finally said, "don't worry, it's probably just a service problem.  I'm sure you don't need a new phone or anything."  As I took it back I mumbled, "I could have figured that out too."  He said, "Sorry?  I didn't catch that."  I stood up as well, once again gazing and said, "Thank you for your diagnosis."  He smiled and said, "No problem."

Now that I think about it, we didn't have much of a conversation, did we?  But I still remembered everything, because a few minutes after, he started asking me about myself, and I responded in small formal answers.  Our candle died out, but we found a flashlight and started using it.  

He suddenly said, "You know, I admire you."  I stared at him, shocked, and he continued by saying, "you manage to become this princess in the business industries, and you've gotten to one of the top positions in one of the top companies and still remained yourself.  Not many people I know can do that."  

I blushed at his comments and then asked, "How was your childhood?" He looked away from me for a minute, and I could see him debating whether or not to tell me.  

Then he looked down and said, "I didn't really have a childhood.  My dad was always working and my mother was always entertaining guests, so I sort of was alone all the time.  The first talk I ever had with my dad was when I was 12 and I was entering a new private school.  And I was always in the limelight for no apparent reason.  So I had to always be presentable, act nice, and basically be a fake person."  

I didn't even realize that I was staring at him, but the small flames that I could see rising in his eyes told me to not look away.  So being born rich wasn't all I thought it was.  He blinked a couple times and then said, "Sorry about that."  I smiled and said, "no problem."  

The lights came back on, and we heard a voice on the intercom, "Hello, is anyone in the elevator?"  I replied, "y-yeah, two of us."  The voice said, "Oh okay, just ten more minutes' madam.  We're sorry for the trouble."  Then the thing turned off.  

He turned off the flashlight, and we stood up to stretch our legs a little.  After I was done, I glanced at him, just leaning against the wall, staring off.  I said, "You know, you're not so bad."  He looked at me and said, "Really?"  

I saw the smirk he was trying very hard to hide and instead of yelling at him, I smiled and said, "Yeah.  I thought that you would be all rude and snobby, because of the person you are.  But you turned out to be pretty down to earth and normal."  

He smiled and said, "Wow, thanks.  And that coming from the pickiest girl I've ever seen, I'm realy flattered."  

I crossed my arms and huffed, turning away from his eyes that were flashing merrily.  I dusted off my pants and then started walking towards the front of the elevator; well, it wasn't that big, but I mean, I took a step forward.  When I did take a step though, the elevator jerked violently.  I ended flying sideways, into his arms.  

It was a very compromising situation, I mean, 300 feet underwater, in an elevator, in the arms of a guy who was about a year older than me.  I tried to stop my racing heart, when I realized that he was still holding me.  I looked up and our eyes met once again. 

I felt myself drowning in his gaze again when he whispered, "you have beautiful violet eyes."  I blushed again and said, "Thanks."  He smiled and said, "I'd really like to get to know you better.  I don't mean for the sake of the reporters, just for us."  I was still captivated by his eyes, and replied whispering, "S-sure."

We stared at each other still, even as the elevator descended.  Then he suddenly asked, "Have you already had your first kiss?"  I was shocked and taken aback.  I said, "Wha- no…" and that was all I got out because the next thing I knew, he was kissing me. 

The elevator doors opened, and about a million flashes went off, but that was the last thing we noticed.  I think it was about another five seconds before we pulled away from each other, and I buried my face that was completely flushed in his chest, as he pressed the up button, and the elevator doors closed on the world.

Today, I'm a mother of 2 and not exactly working much anymore.  We got married two summers after the elevator incident, and I guess it didn't come as shock to many.  One magazine finished off its article with, 'and we hope that they live happily ever after.'  

And so comes the end to our tale.  As you know, I've quit my job, but because he wanted me to stay in the field, I joined as an advisor for his company.  I don't really do much, except attend some meetings and some parties.  I just realized, I never mentioned his name did I?  Well, it's…"

And the woman stopped reading.  There was no more.  There were circles though, circles formed by tears, though were they tears of happiness or sadness, only she could tell.  The name was smudged, gone completely from the text.  Yet it was etched into her heart, a name that she could never forget.  As for the book, well, maybe it's better this way… 

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So… 

I know, I thought it was kinda weird to leave the guy's name off too.  But this way, you can decide who you want Rika to pair up with, right?  When I actually wrote the short story, I couldn't think of a name for the guy, and this left it unanswered, just the way I like some things to be.   So I decided to leave it this way.  I know who I was intending, it's up to you if you want to choose him or not. 

Ehehe, I should get back to working on the other one now.  

Review if you have a minute or two…

~*Spectraangel*~

P.S. if you have any questions, put it in your review, or email me at kawaiisakura915@hotmail.com


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